


sinking into sweet uncertainty

by spectrespecs



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Smut, Frat Boy Shiro (Voltron), Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, antics! at a music festival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 17:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectrespecs/pseuds/spectrespecs
Summary: “You’re drinking all that by yourself?” a deep voice muses from above Keith as a shadow falls across him.Ready to reply with what feels like his thousandth sarcastic reply to a stranger in 24 hours, Keith looks up at the figure blocking the sun and critiquing his alcohol intake, then sucks in a breath of surprise. Frat boys at music festivals are a dime a dozen, but the frat boy in front of Keith—and he is definitely a frat boy—is somehow completely different.





	sinking into sweet uncertainty

**Author's Note:**

> I watched season six at 3am when it premiered, and then I went to a music festival immediately after the rest of the weekend. The title comes from "Sweetness" by Jimmy Eat World because I was watching them when the inspiration for this struck and started to furiously type notes on my phone. Mildly self-indulgent. 
> 
> Season six spoilers in regards to Shiro's appearance, but I took some liberties.

“Hey, man, yeah!” a guy in an unbuttoned beer-themed Hawaiian shirt and clashing green board shorts yells, hand in the air expecting a high-five. Keith raises the three cups of rapidly warming beer precariously balanced in his hands with annoyed acknowledgment as he wanders back to find where his friends are sitting.

The weekend music festival had been Lance’s idea, and opting for camping had been Pidge’s. Keith liked the idea of camping with his friends for a weekend, he just hated the fact that it was surrounded by tens of thousands of other people. Keith enjoyed camping in solitude with the quiet sounds of nature and not the commotion of people at the campsite placed so closely next to his doing shots until 4 am.

Today was a half-day of the festival since people camping were still arriving. The festival went into full swing the next day when the already busy grounds would be overrun by attendees trying to have the time of their life in a 72-hour span. The location was in the middle a field surrounded by lush and towering trees, creating a stunning natural backdrop behind the stages and booths of merch and food. Keith wasn’t always the most updated when it came to popular music, but he had a general knowledge of the main headliners and looked forward to seeing them with new bands and musicians along with his three closest friends. The problem right now was he cannot find those friends.

Keith navigates around people sprawled on the ground and groups trudging through the field, eyes trying to find Lance’s pointy face, Hunk’s bright headband, and Pidge’s neon outfit. Surprisingly, the festival had no shortage of people who matched their descriptions making Keith’s search difficult as he scanned the crowds. After circling the space he swore the group had put their blanket down on, Keith huffs in defeat and sits down on the grass and decides to start at least drinking one of the beers while it still retained some of its coldness. Today was the hottest day in the forecast, and Keith could feel sweat slowly rolling down his neck under where his hair was tied back. The light muscle shirt he’s wearing is sticking to his back, and the morning decision to wear denim shorts is now one he regrets as they feel constricting around his thighs.

Because it’s just a few hours into a half-day, the bands performing are lower on the tier of popularity with respectably sized crowds gathered in front of them. Maybe making the most of this moment also means that Keith can try and discover some new music, so he tries to pay attention to the band that’s on the closest stage. Cheers from the stage sound like the light buzzing in an empty room from Keith’s distance, and he tries to tune out the conversations of people sitting around him on this area of grass. The band starts a song that sounds like it came straight from a decade old pop-punk playlist, which Keith doesn’t mind at all. He sets down the beer he started drinking to find the folded up schedule in his pocket to look up the band’s name.

“You’re drinking all that by yourself?” a deep voice muses from above Keith as a shadow falls across the pamphlet Keith has just opened up.

Ready to reply with what feels like his thousandth sarcastic reply to a stranger in 24 hours, Keith looks up at the figure blocking the sun and critiquing his alcohol intake, then sucks in a breath of surprise. Frat boys at music festivals are a dime a dozen, but the frat boy in front of Keith—and he is definitely a frat boy—is somehow completely different.

He’s tall, very tall, wearing a tight grey tank that does little to hide the muscles on his arms and the slightly visible outline of his abs. The tank is paired with black basketball shorts because he is, after all, a frat boy. Of this, Keith is certain. His hair is also dyed a shocking silver, which Keith finds particularly intriguing.

The retort withers away on Keith’s tongue, and he just stares gaping at the man above him.

“Maybe,” comes the clumsy reply once Keith manages to gather himself.

The beautiful, tall frat boy takes it upon himself to not say anything but sit down next to Keith on the grass and lift the beer in his hand.

“Then let me give you some company as you start making a poor festival decision,” he raises his cup and takes a deep gulp of the liquid, and Keith feels the need to take a drink himself, mouth going dry watching the way the other man’s throat works to drink.

“I’m Shiro,” frat boy states and puts the hand not holding a beer out.

“Keith,” he manages to reply while taking Shiro’s hand. It’s a state-of-the-art prosthetic, and the grip is strong.

“Well, Keith, how’s the festival going?” Shiro asks and takes another drink.

If it was anyone else, Keith would have left or ignored them, but something about the other man makes him stay. Maybe it was the kindness that seemed to creep out from the crevasses of Shiro’s “hey man, cool bro” exterior. Maybe it was Shiro leaning back on his hands, part of his smooth and toned stomach becoming visible as the tank rode up. His hair caught the sun and made Shiro appear to be crowned with an ethereal glow. There was a story behind Shiro, not just one about his arm and scar across his face, but something else that explained how he felt like an anomaly. Everything about Shiro looked like he came from one of Keith’s dreams. One of the very best dreams, in fact. Keith wants to know more.

“Uh, got here yesterday to set up camp. Haven’t done much today yet, except losing my friends after getting these,” Keith gestures to the three beers now set in front of him.

“Oh, so these aren’t all for you, Keith,” Shiro teases with a laugh, and Keith likes how his name sounds in the other man’s voice.

“No,” Keith gives the short response, unsure how to keep the conversation going.

“So, what campsite are you at?” Shiro prods.

“The north one. You?”

“I’m in the RV site,” Shiro smiles sheepishly and runs a hand through his hair.

“Oh, you’re a big spender, huh?” Keith laughs. The RV lot of the festival was packed with varying sizes of large and expensive campers decked out in as many comforts people could afford out of a glorified truck.

“Not really. My fraternity brothers and I just put money in together to rent out a few RVs together for the weekend,” Shiro explains, ducking his head behind his beer.

“I knew it!” Keith declares triumphantly, belatedly realizing he just celebrated out loud.

“Knew what?” Shiro asks, eyes narrowing at Keith.

“I just—I figured you were a frat boy,” Keith’s voice stumbles and becomes quieter as he makes his admission.

“Huh,” Shiro looks down at himself. “I guess I’m that obvious?”

He looks back up at Keith with a slight pouty frown and bright eyes. It’s a look that makes Keith warm inside and gives an uncharacteristically wide smile back to the other man.

“To be fair, though, I’m not in the frat anymore since I graduated. It’s other former members,” Shiro tilts his head with an eyebrow raised, trying to argue for himself.

“There you are!” Keith’s laugh at Shiro’s attempt to escape the correct deduction turns into a  groan as he recognizes the voice yelling.

“We thought you’d taken questionable substances someone gave you and disappeared forever!” Lance cries as he approaches Keith, arms flailing in his white muscle shirt.

“I’m fine, Lance, shut up,” Keith mutters, looking at the grass in front of him instead of his friend or the man next to him he’d just met.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Lance replies sarcastically, looking over at Shiro. “You definitely seem to be fine,” he continues, annoyance turning to glee at the realization what he caught Keith doing that led to the abandonment of their group. Keith prays Lance doesn’t do anything in line with this usual embarrassingly unsubtle comments.

“Hi, I’m Lance, and I see you’ve met my very single friend, Keith,” Lance says in his usual embarrassingly unsubtle fashion.

“Shiro,” the silver-haired man states simply with a small laugh.

“Nice hair,” Lance adds. “Keith loves silver hair.”

Keith has said nothing of the sort ever and has started to contemplate if he can just chug the remaining beers in front of him to launch him into a drunk oblivion to forget this entire exchange.

“Oh?” Shiro raises an eyebrow at Keith who is now looking very hard at what he’s decided to be the most interesting area of grass on Earth. “He didn’t mention.”

Keith remains quiet and chances a glance over to Shiro and feels his face heat more from the look of amusement Shiro is giving him and less from the hot temperature and sun. Keith wishes he could blame it all on the latter.

“Oh, yeah! And he—“ Lance starts but Keith abruptly stands up, startling the other two and almost knocking over the remaining beers.

“Lance, help me carry these back to Hunk and Pidge,” Keith says and turns to Shiro, hoping Lance will just do as he says. “Thanks for talking.”

“Yeah, you too,” Shiro pushes himself up from the ground and Keith sways at how the man towers slightly over him. “I’ll see you around?” Shiro adds in a hopeful tone.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a big festival. Maybe,” Keith nods in response.

Shiro puts his hand out again and Keith shakes it, fingers lingering as they pull apart.

“Oh, I will make sure you see him again,” Lance cheerfully adds in, and Keith wishes he could elbow his friend.

Shiro gives a small salute with a smile as Lance and Keith turn away from him to walk back to the rest of their group.

“Why did you cut me off? I was about to help you successfully get with tall and handsome over there!” Lance cries in disappointment as they walk away.

“Given your own track record, I don’t think you’d be all that helpful,” Keith grumbles. “And besides, it was just a weird thing. People at festivals just talking to strangers they won’t see again. Whatever.”

Keith feels disappointment saying the words out loud. Just the few minutes they shared make him want to see Shiro again, but Keith knows that it would be impossible when there are 70,000 other people and all he has about the guy is not even his full name and that he was in a frat at some point in life. But Keith also believes what he says that it’s just one of those unique moments that happen in music festival environments.

Eventually, Lance navigates the two of them through the crowd back to where Hunk and Pidge are sitting on a blanket a distance away from one of the smaller stages. The crowd in front of the stage is growing as the time the band taking the late-afternoon time slot nears. The sun momentarily disappears behind the clouds allowing for a few seconds of the temperature feeling cooler.

“Finally!” Hunk cries as Keith and Lance sit down. “Where did you go, bud?” He asks Keith, taking a beer.

“He was too distracted flirting,” Lance rushes to explain before Keith can explain that he couldn’t find his way back to the group.

“I was not flirting!” Keith exclaims in defense and scowls into his beer.

“With who?” Pidge perks with interest and takes a drink, sitting up on her legs.

“Just a random guy, it’s nothing,” Keith tries to brush off.

“Please,” Lance rolls his eyes. “He was tall, toned, and totally into Keith.”

Both Hunk and Pidge offer “ohh”s of interest while Keith silently shakes his head.

“Whatever, which band did you want to see soon?” Keith tries to push away discussion of his non-existent love life and Shiro, and he ends up being successful as Pidge and Lance start arguing about which sets to go to.

Keith lets a look of amusement settle on his face while he watches his friends but also can’t help allowing his mind wander over to Shiro.  


*****  


Incredibly, Keith once again finds himself wandering the festival grounds unable to find his friends. He went to buy mac and cheese for Hunk and himself, and now Keith has definitely wandered over somewhere too far from where he’d left his friends. Keith’s sense of direction is impeccable, it’s just that everything manages to get warped in the festival environment. It’s Friday, the first full day, and the number of people feels like it had to have at least tripled from the day before.

Keith thinks about setting down the food in his hand to call Hunk when a voice yells his name, but it isn’t one he immediately recognizes. The voice comes from the area where trees line the middle of the field with hammocks hanging between them. Keith’s eyes scan the area and take a few seconds to land on a familiar face.

Shiro is sitting up from one of the hammocks, getting his feet back on the ground and waving over at Keith. The weather is cooler today, so Shiro is wearing a fitted black and white baseball shirt with sleeves conforming to his arms and black shorts. He’s also wearing a backward snapback with his bangs sticking through and aviators. Keith feels overwhelmed just looking at the other man.

“Hey,” Keith says while walking up to Shiro.

“Hey, I’m glad I saw you!” Shiro replies with genuine happiness pouring from his voice.

“Yeah,” Keith feels unsure of what to do or say now that he’s somehow found his way back to Shiro and not his group of friends.

“So, are you a big fan of mac and cheese or did you lose your friends again?” Shiro asks, nodding to the food in Keith’s hands.

“Both, but more the latter, actually. But, here—” Keith holds out one of the paper containers to Shiro. “You take it.”

“Really?” Shiro sounds uncertain, looking down at the offered cheese and carb conglomerate. “Isn’t it for your friends?”

“Well, seeing as I can’t find them, it’s yours now,” Keith shrugs, still holding the food towards Shiro who gingerly takes it out of Keith’s hands as if he was offering the man the most precious gift.

“Thanks, I do really love mac and cheese. Want to sit?” Shiro jerks his head to the hammock he just rose out of.

“Uh, I…” Keith stammers because he doesn’t think the two of them lying down in a hammock together to eat mac and cheese sounds like a good idea, both for the possible mess of emotions and mess of food everywhere.

“Come on,” Shiro says, turning around. He manages to maneuver the hammock one-handed and sit down on the middle with feet on the ground. Keith suddenly feels dumb for thinking the only way people can sit in a hammock is lying down. Shiro pats the space next to him and Keith turns out to be much more graceful than he thought possible sliding into the space next to him. Sitting like this, there’s no space between the two men, the sides of their bodies pressed right up to each other.

They let a few minutes of silence settle between them as they eat before Shiro speaks up.

“So, what brought you to the festival this weekend?”

“My friends wanted to go. I wanted to camp. That’s about it,” Keith shrugs. “How about you?”

“More or less the same reasons, I guess.”

Keith nods and takes another bite of food, wishing he was faster at thinking about what to say to Shiro. He didn’t want to make the other man think he was disinterested or sitting with Shiro for no reason but couldn’t get himself to move past the nervousness that took over in this close proximity.

In what could be interpreted as a blessing or a curse, a guy runs up to Shiro and Keith and lets out a yell of “Shirogane!” Shiro’s head snaps up to look at who’s approaching and a grin breaks out across his face. He carefully gets up from the hammock and yells out a greeting as the two go in for a fist bump. Keith continues to sit quietly, picking at the mac and cheese with a fork and letting his gaze occasionally drift up to Shiro and the other guy. Keith picks up through their conversation that the other guy is one of Shiro’s friends he’s at the festival with.

“Hey, man, wanna come hang out for a bit?” other guy asks. Keith looks to the side, off to where a singer has just gone on the nearest stage. There’s no reason for Shiro to stay with Keith, someone he barely knows, when a friend of his that he actually came to hang out with wants to spend time with him.

“Thanks, man, but I’m actually hanging out with my friend Keith here,” Shiro responds, surprising Keith, who’s head snaps back to look at him. “I’ll catch you later during the headliner maybe, though, yeah?”

This is the first time Keith is actually looking at the other guy who is blonde and slightly shorter than Shiro. His light blue eyes bore into Keith’s momentarily before he nods in understanding and tells Shiro he’ll see him later and walks away, giving one more fistbump to Shiro for the road. The entire exchange throws Keith off balance for some reason.

“Why did you do that?” Keith asks once Shiro returns to sit down on the hammock.

“What?” Shiro sounds confused as Keith leans to allow Shiro to sit back down on the hammock.

“He was your friend, and you left him for me?” Keith doesn’t say anything about the fact he’s essentially doing the same thing right now by sitting with Shiro without attempting to even contact his friends about where he is.

“You’re my friend, too, now,” Shiro turns and beams at Keith, and Keith wishes the sunglasses weren’t hiding the other man’s eyes.

Somehow that admission even after barely an hour of knowing each other calms Keith down. He likes that Shiro is open enough to already let Keith into his life as a friend, but how does Keith know that isn’t how Shiro is to everyone. Keith barely knows why Shiro started talking to him the day before anyway. They fall into an easy discussion about themselves. It surprises them both to learn they attend Garrison University together but their paths never crossed despite both being in the engineering department—Keith in aviation and Shiro in aerospace. While Keith just finished his third year at the university, Shiro is a few years into his Ph.D.

Keith tells Shiro about being friends with Lance, Hunk, and Pidge and how they wanted to have a music festival experience at least once together. Shiro talks about turning down the presidency of the frat in favor of focusing on his last year of classes, and they’ve never forgiven him for even though a few years have passed, so he makes up for it by agreeing to go on whatever trips his former frat brothers come up with. The story surprises Keith whose reaction causes Shiro to laugh.

“How much of a bro do you think I am?”

Keith gives Shiro a very obvious and thorough up and down before shrugging and finishing his mac and cheese.

Whether it’s due to the strange easy atmosphere of music festivals or a result of true compatibility between Shiro and him, Keith mellows to a level of serenity at the festival he hasn’t felt since the group had pulled into the campsite and started the weekend of being surrounded by so many strangers.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Again?” Lance’s voice cuts Shiro off from telling Keith about the prank involving an exorbitant number of plastic cutlery being placed in the rival frat’s front yard right before a big party. Keith wasn’t wildly interested in the story, but he was interested in the joy it clearly brought Shiro. The way his eyes shone with mirth after taking his aviators off made Keith think that’s what a pool of molten silver looks like.

“Hey!” Shiro cheerfully waves over at Lance who is being followed by Hunk and Pidge. He seems to have forgotten that Keith abandoned his friends in favor of Shiro. To be honest, Keith had forgotten about this as well.

“Will you stop worrying us?” Lance cries, ignoring Shiro’s greeting in favor of turning to glare at Keith. “It’s been almost 40 minutes since you left to supposedly get food!”

“Oh,” Keith looks down at the empty food containers in his and Shiro’s hands.

“You owe me,” Hunk chimes from behind Lance.

“I’m sorry, lost track of the time!” Keith yells and suddenly stands up from the hammock. The issue with his sudden movement is it offsets Shiro who has been leaning on him. This results in Shiro suddenly falling off the hammock and knocking into the back of Keith’s knees, sending both men to the ground.

So, there Keith is, facedown in the dirt with Shiro sprawled against the lower half of his body, head resting just above Keith’s ass. Keith is mortified and goes to quickly remove himself from the position and ends up smacking Shiro across the head with the exposed knee in his cut-up jeans. Not realizing he could be even more embarrassed by the entire ordeal, Keith goes to cradle Shiro’s head and offering apology after apology.

“Didn’t know this was what you’re into,” Pidge deadpans as Lance mutters a small “pathetic.” Hunk moves to go and help the two downed men up, but Lance and Pidge simultaneously grab him and shake their heads as if to say “this is Keith’s burden alone to deal with.”

Eventually, they’re both standing again, but Keith keeps trying to brush any dirt off Shiro’s clothes while Shiro attempts to check that Keith wasn’t hurt by having Shiro fall on top of him.

“I, uh, think I should probably go back to my friends now, but this was, yeah, nice,” Keith says, not quite looking Shiro in the eye but very aware of his friends glaring into the back of his head.

“Yeah! Sorry to keep you from him,” Shiro apologizes, looking over to the trio of glares. “Hey, give me your phone?” Shiro turns back to Keith.

“Why?” Keith asks flatly.

“Let me give you my number. We can meet up again later, yeah?” Shiro’s smile is something that Keith would rather not say no to, so he pulls out and unlocks the phone before handing it over the other man. When he hands it back to Keith, he’s sent a text to himself with a smiley face, and Keith’s stomach does a small flip of joy.

“Thanks. See you around,” Keith smiles at Shiro and once again turns around to leave him behind and rejoin the taunts of his friends.  


*****  


Later that night after Keith makes it up to the group by buying them all a round of food and being dragged through the grounds to watch some musicians he’s vaguely aware of, he opts to go back to the campsite while the other three go off to do their own things on the festival grounds.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens the newly created text thread that just has a single smile in it. After typing a “hey,” Keith mulls over whether to send it or not. He takes a breath and hits the arrow to send the message and watches the progress bar move slower than normal and the delivered confirmation pop up. Sighing at the phone, Keith doesn’t expect a response anytime soon since Shiro is surely either still at the festival or partying at RV campsite area. About to push the button to lock his phone, Keith pauses when the phone indicates that Shiro is typing.

_Hey! Where are you?_

Keith sits up from his sleeping bag and types back a response.

_Back at the campsite. You?_

_I’m about to head to see the last DJ set of the night. Hoped you were too :(_

The sad face surprises Keith and makes him wish he hadn’t become so sullen after being taken away from Shiro because he could have been hanging out with him now.

_Sorry I was just tired. Can I see you tomorrow?_

_Of course! :) I’ll text u_

He rolls over onto his stomach and decides to do something Keith has always rejected: social media stalking. Lance constantly looks up people and dictates all his findings to the group when they’re at their shared apartment, and Keith always tunes it out. Keith finds it invasive, but in this moment, it feels like an appropriate plan of action.

Even though Keith feels like he has a semi-decent idea about Shiro as a person on a surface level, he wants to know more. Unfortunately, while text messages successfully send and are received, internet reception out in the remote field with thousands of people also trying to use it becomes slow. Luckily, Pidge and Hunk are a star engineering duo and rigged together some type of solar contraption to give them WiFi. The issue is Keith scoffed and rolled his eyes at the aspect of needing to use the internet while out camping and never paid attention to what the password for the connection was.

Keith sends a message to Pidge asking for the password in the most nonchalant way possible and stares at his phone, silently pleading for a quick response because he needs something to do to distract him from thinking about Shiro even if that thing happens to be looking at Shiro’s online presence.

His phone lights up with a notification of Pidge’s response, and Keith scrambles to open it. He frowns at the reply which is a math problem. Of course. Hunk and Pidge would think it hilarious and appropriate to make a solution from their differential equations class the internet password. He looks around for a notebook and pen in the tent in order to get to work on the problem and momentarily forgets what he’s going through this effort for. A triumphant whisper of “yeah” comes out of his mouth once he’s worked it out because Keith didn’t get an A in the class for nothing, and he goes to put the answer into the network named “TEAMPUNK.”

Keith rolls onto his back and holds his phone over his face as he opens Instagram to start his search. At first, he types “Shiro” into the search field with no success. Remembering Shiro’s friend yelling “SHIROGANE,” Keith searches that and this time hits the jackpot with the second account in the results appearing to be the man occupying all his thoughts.

Keith gasps and drops the phone onto his face upon tapping the profile and seeing the first picture. It’s Shiro, alright, but it’s him with gym shorts riding low and shirt pulled up enough just to show a hint of glistening abs. The gym selfie with the simple caption of a dumbbell emoji could rival at least half of the contents in the Louvre in Keith’s opinion.

Shiro’s follower count is over so many times higher than Keith’s, but to be fair, Keith never posts anything and only has a smattering of classmates following him. Shiro seems to have most of the Garrison student body and then some added population following him. This discovery simultaneously fills Keith with jealousy and disappointment. It instills a feeling in Keith that there’s no reason for Shiro to be so invested in hanging out with Keith. There’s no real reason for Shiro’s present attempt to get to know Keith better. There are other people out there who definitely demand more attention from the man than Keith.

This still doesn’t stop Keith from proceeding to scroll through the entire account. Twice. And then fall asleep with his phone on his chest, still open to a picture of Shiro visiting NASA’s Jet Propulsion Lab.

That’s how Lance, Pidge, and Hunk find him when they return to the campsite. Pidge gently extracts the phone from Keith’s grasp and uses his finger to unlock the phone.

Lance, who has probably had too much to drink and is already a naturally loud person, yells “are you serious” jarring Keith away from his sleep.

“So this is why you needed the password suddenly?” Pidge asks, shaking Keith’s phone in front of his face. He quickly grabs it out of her hand and clutches it to his chest.

“Were you jacking off to pictures of Shiro at NASA!” Lance yells at Keith.

“NO,” Keith yells back loudly. “I was not.”

“You weren’t jacking off at all, right?” Hunk asks and puts his hands up in acquiescence at the look Keith gives him. “Hey, man, just checking. We agreed on keeping the tent sacred ground.”

Keith huffs and turns into his sleeping bag muttering that he doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Oh, so you don’t want to know about how he’s my brother’s lab partner?” Pidge asks innocently.

Keith twists around to look over at her with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs. “Matt and Shiro have been lab partners for most of their engineering classes through the program. They aren’t super close but hang out enough that I’ve heard some things.”

“Like what?” Keith is surprised that Lance beats him to ask the question.

“Just that he wanted to be a pilot but can’t after an accident that happened, and now he’s working on a Ph.D.,” Pidge says.

“I knew about grad school, he told me,” Keith replies, calming down, thinking that Pidge probably doesn’t have that much information over Keith.

“I know that he gets a lot of attention but never reciprocates it to anyone,” Pidge says in a tone implying she feels superior with this insight. “Matt has met up with him at the gym before to talk about projects, and people always try to come and get his attention. No one ever does. Matt doesn’t think he’s close to anyone.”

“That’s weird,” Lance continues to speak too loudly. “That’s kinda like you?” he points at Keith.

“No one tries to get Keith’s attention,” Hunk says, confused. “No offense,” he adds, looking mildly in fear at Keith.

“No, I mean that Keith never lets anyone get close. We barged our way into his life,” Lance responds, and Keith scowls.

“Whatever, I’m going to sleep,” Keith feels his heart beating fast and doesn’t want to get swept into thinking what all of this could mean. It surprises Keith since Shiro’s account looked so open and inviting into his life, but then again, isn’t that exactly the venue to convey to people that you’re leading the fullest life possible?

Keith drifts asleep to the sound of his friends arguing as they settle in for the night and thoughts of Shiro’s smile swirling in his head.   


***  


In the morning, there’s a text from Shiro apologizing. Saturday is always the busiest at any festival, with all the multi-day attendees coming and people with single-day passes coming out in droves for the most accessible day of the weekend. As a result, a lot more people than just Shiro’s friends he’s here with are going to be at the festival, and he has to meet those commitments before finding time to see Keith. Of course, Keith replies in the most gracious manner he can, telling Shiro it’s _no problem_ and they’ll meet up whenever is best for the other man. His kindness to Shiro in texts doesn’t translate over to his attitude with Lance, Hunk, and Pidge.

Instead, Keith spends the day with arms folded, looking slightly sullen and pulling out his phone every few minutes to check if Shiro’s sent anything. The other three make jokes every time Keith’s phone makes an appearance since he’s not one to be overly attached to the device.

By the later afternoon when the group has made rounds to the fried cookie dough stand more times than they should and had a blast together at the DJ tent during one of Pidge’s favorite musicians, Keith has managed to let thoughts of Shiro slide further away. Will it hurt if he never hears from Shiro again? Certainly. But Keith didn’t get too deep in yet, anyway, and he can pull himself back from how fast he’s already been falling. He hopes.

It’s 10:15 pm and the big rock band headlining the main stage is going to go on in fifteen minutes. Keith and his friends are all looking forward to the performance since the band is hyped to be one of the best live acts out there today. They’re standing in the field about two-thirds of the way back into the crowd and sharing a large container of cheese fries and two overpriced cocktails between them. Hunk and Pidge have adorned themselves in glow sticks and are trying to cover Lance in glowing bracelets as well. It’s calm; it’s good.

Keith feels a buzz in his pocket and reaches to pull it out as fast as he can. It’s Shiro.

_Meet me at the Ferris wheel? 10 min?_

Keith looks over at his friends and back down at his phone. He stares at the message because while he really does want to see Shiro, he knows that right now, his group of friends is having an amazing time together, and he doesn’t want to split that up.

“Go,” Pidge nudges him. Ever intuitive, she picks up on the dilemma waging inside Keith.

“Are you sure?” Keith asks, looking over at Hunk and Lance as well.

“Go get your man,” Lance says, waving a glow stick at Keith with a smile, but then he smacks Keith on the head with it, which lessens the kind sentiment.

Hunk gives two thumbs up and Keith sends a quick response to Shiro before waving at his friends and setting off.

There’s a large Ferris wheel placed right at the center of the festival. You can see it from all corners of the grounds, and it’s supposed to have a spectacular view of the area. Keith gets to where the line to go on the ride ends and looks around for Shiro. The line is surprisingly short since most people are on their way or already at the main stage.

“Keith!” Shiro yells and waves from where he is in line. The top few buttons of the blue button-up t-shirt Shiro’s wearing are undone, allowing a view of his chest and collarbones. It’s a damn good look, Keith thinks.

As Keith joins Shiro in line, the band takes the main stage. It’s dark out, so the illuminated stage in the distance and the Ferris wheel in front of them make the brightest beacons in the area. The sound of the crowd at the stage is a dull roar while the guitars and drums of the band throw an energy into the air of what usually is a quiet, empty field. The two men don’t fall into discussion immediately, everyone in the Ferris wheel area taking a moment to try and listen to the band before breaking back into their own conversations. The wheel makes its way round and round; red, white, and blue lights casting their colors onto everything below them.

They share basic conversation about how their days have gone so far when it feels right to add their voices to the din of the night. Shiro tells Keith about the DJ set the previous evening, and Keith recommends the fried cookie dough stand because it was life-changing. Shiro laughs and says maybe he will go to it tonight if Keith’s got such rave reviews for it.

Either the line moves faster than Keith expects or he’s extremely easily reigned into everything about Shiro that time around them no longer matters. They swap stories about the worst classes they’ve taken and what the most abhorrent sight they’ve seen in the Garrison Library during finals week. It’s light. It’s easy. They laugh and bump shoulders occasionally as the evening breeze ruffles through their hair and the leaves of the trees shrouding 70,000 people into a single space.

Once it’s their turn to get into the Ferris wheel, Shiro places a hand on Keith’s shoulder to gently guide him inside the box they’ll be sitting in. The door locks in place and the ride operator tells them to have a good time as the wheel moves to allow the next groups to step on and off.

Keith keeps his eyes glued to the windows as they move higher and higher above ground. Even though Keith wants to be a pilot, he’s only ever flown on a plane twice before. He loved everything about that experience, and ever since he revels in any type of activity that allows him to go up as high into the sky as possible.

Shiro slides an arm around Keith, which should be surprising to him, but Keith feels like this is the most normal thing to happen all weekend.

“You really like to be in the sky, don’t you?” Shiro asks quietly.

Keith turns to look at Shiro and finds that Shiro hasn’t been as enraptured by the view of the festival below them because Shiro has been watching Keith. It’s quiet except for the sound of the ferris wheel moving slowly. They’re too high up to hear much of what’s happening on the solid ground.

“Why did you stop and talk to me?” Keith asks. He’s so close to Shiro right now. They have to barely speak aloud to hear each other.

“Because it felt right,” Shiro responds and leans forward to gently graze his lips across Keith’s. He flicks his eyes down to look at Keith. Keith’s breath hitches, which Shiro takes as a positive sign and moves to kiss Keith properly.

Shiro’s mouth, like him, is soft and kind but holds a silent firmness. Shiro’s arms encircle Keith’s body and hold him close while Keith’s hands move to grasp on Shiro’s hair. Shiro’s prosthetic arm moves up to thread through Keith’s hair, shaking it free of the hair tie that was holding it back. They press in to each other more and more until it’s time to move back and catch their breaths. Smiles split across both their faces, and there’s nowhere either of them would rather be.

Keith wants more, but he knows he shouldn’t give in to that so easily, so quickly now.

“Look outside,” Shiro whispers while placing a kiss on the corner of Keith’s mouth.

Keith turns around and leans back against Shiro, who keeps a loose arm around him. They sit in silence as the Ferris wheel makes another rotation around for them. There are so many individual lives going on below them, crashing together in one area that feels relatively small when you’re all the way up here, Keith thinks. All of that feels inconsequential as he stares up at the sky and the matching flashing lights below as Shiro offers a comforting presence behind him.

When they disembark, it feels like waking up from a dream. Keith wants to spend more time with Shiro as this new possibility blossoms, but Shiro has a disappointed look on his face.

“I have to go,” Shiro admits, hand on Keith’s shoulder. “I have some late night party commitments with the boys,” he adds with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh,” Keith nods, throat feeling tight.

“This isn’t it, though. I’m going to see you tomorrow? Yeah?” Shiro’s eyes are reflecting the Ferris wheel lights making them appear particularly bright and hopeful.

“Yeah,” Keith breathes.   


***  


Keith wakes to a text from Shiro asking him to spend time together during the second to last headliner on the main stage. It’s an R&B/hip-hop musician that Keith actually knows about, and he’s sure that the gang won’t be too upset if he ditches them one last time to see Shiro. Especially because this time Keith will actually let them know he’s going to be gone with the other man ahead of time instead of last second or just vanishing.

Telling his friends he’s planning to see Shiro goes about as well as he’d thought it would. Hunk provides his usual warm support with a dash of “don’t tell me anything else about this please.” Pidge lets out a quiet, slightly devious laugh that worries Keith momentarily before she leaves the campsite saying something about finding earplugs from the small marketplace set up in the middle of the field. Lance launches into a series of sarcastic statements of thanks that Keith was letting them know he’d be running off with another man later.

None of them had asked how it went with Shiro the night before but could appropriately guess that it went well since Keith couldn’t wipe a small smile from his face all night. In a way, their responses to Keith saying he’ll be seeing Shiro again were their own positive affirmations that Keith should be going out there and having a good time with someone he likes.

After spending the morning getting some preliminary packing done so there would be less to do before the next morning when the campsite needed to be cleared out, Keith heads to the camp showers and chooses a black v-neck t-shirt and black shorts to go with his slowly dying pair of Converse to wear. He hopes the clothes will convey he was trying to look as decent as someone who’s on day three camping in a field could look.  

Since it was the final day of the festival, everything felt much more mellow. Everyone who had been there for the past few days was nearing the end of their energy to expend walking across the huge grounds. More people were lying on the grass and letting the music from the nearest stages lull them as they nodded along, the occasional curl of smoke rising from the crowd and the low hum of cheering carrying across the field. While the first two days were full of bounding vitality, this was the natural denouement for the weekend.

Just barely underneath the surface, Keith was crackling with anticipation of seeing Shiro in the early evening. He succeeded in keeping his mind focused on time with his friends as they wandered between stages and stopped at the food locations they still hadn’t gotten to try yet. After lying on a blanket to watch a band while deciding on a definitive ranking of the popsicle flavors of the stands scattered around the festival grounds, it was quickly approaching the time that Keith was supposed to meet Shiro. In an attempt to appease his friends one final time, Keith loaded all their accumulated trash into his arms to throw away and waved a farewell until he saw them later that night.

“I don’t expect to see you until tomorrow morning,” Pidge says with a wag of her eyebrows. Keith has never seen her say or do anything like that to him, and he fumbles with the trash in his arms, scattering it on the ground. The group snickers at him as he remains silent and stalks away with the regathered trash.

Keith makes his way to the lemonade stand closest to the main stage near the merch tent where the two agreed to meet. As he gets closer to the location, Keith can see Shiro is already standing there, two cups of lemonade in hand. He’s wearing a fitted floral pattern t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and grey denim shorts. Keith’s taken aback since he expected the same laidback outfits Shiro had been wearing the past two days, but Shiro looked like he would fit on a spread for male festival fashion. Keith heats at the fact that this thought even crosses his mind.

“Hey,” Keith smiles as he reaches the other man.

“Hey,” Shiro returns the smile. “Do you like lemonade? I bought you one without thinking about it. We could get beer or—”

“No, this is great,” Keith cuts him off and takes a cup from Shiro’s hand.

“I figured I owed you something since you fed me the other day,” Shiro laughs and takes a drink. “Shall we?” He gestures with this head in the direction of the main stage.

The two find themselves a space in the crowd that’s not too far back and also not deep in the pit. It’ll be enough to make sure they have some space around them when the area fills in as the set time gets closer.

The conversation remains easy between them. Shiro delves more into what he’s working on to start serious work on his dissertation in the fall, and Keith talks about what he thinks will end up being his thesis project. Everything feels like level ground between them. Even though Pidge had already told Keith, it takes him back when Shiro tells him about the accident during freshman year at Garrison that left Shiro unable to achieve his initial dream to be a pilot or astronaut.

“So, I switched my path to doing something that’ll help other people who have that dream achieve it,” Shiro explains with his ever-present smile. It’s so pure and genuine that it makes Keith’s heart truly flutter and wonder how so much good could be in a person after having so much taken away.

In return, Keith tells Shiro about how he met Lance, Hunk, and Pidge in high school. He moved into the area after being placed in a new foster home during the middle of his junior year. He somehow had almost every class with Hunk, who started to try and talk to Keith and get him to hang out with his friends, Lance and Pidge. Hunk was a good guy and well-meaning, and eventually, Keith gave in and before he knew it, he found himself with real friends. They all went to Garrison now and rented an apartment together that was a general mess of gadgetry and textbooks.

Shiro has the same warm expression while Keith talks about his crew; it’s a genuine smile that’s pleased to know about what things make Keith happy. Keith wants to tell Shiro that his smile is currently at the top of Keith’s Happy Things List.

“What about your friends?” Keith asks, thinking about the blonde frat guy from the other day but also about what Pidge said regarding Shiro never being close to anyone.

“Oh, I’m not from the area. No friends from home are here,” Shiro shrugs and looks away from Keith, back at the stage that now has slowly billowing fake smoke rolling across it. Keith thinks about asking Shiro about his frat but chooses to not push the subject for now. It seemed like he was close to them, but maybe Keith was mistaken. What they have between them right now is too new and unspoiled to turn sour with prodding that Shiro might not be comfortable with just yet.

The singer finally takes to the stage, lights flashing and music pumping through the speakers. Cheers erupt around them and get louder when their most recent popular song starts. Shiro joins in the cheers and raises his lemonade, which looks a bit funny in the sea of beer cans around them. Shiro starts to sway side to side and nod along to the music, occasionally singing along to the words as he knows them. Keith sways with the rest of the crowd. The crowd shifts and fills in as other people also dance and gather, eventually moving the two of them until Shiro is behind Keith.

The sun dips below the horizon casting a soft glow of oranges and purples in the sky above them that also makes the trees around the field of the festival grounds glow. There’s a haze from the dust being shifted into the gentle breeze from dancing feet kicking it up and the smoke people around them gently blow out from cigarettes and joints. The low tempo music has its own hazy quality with a sound that feels like it’s gliding over Keith’s skin but the bass is hitting deep into his core.

Keith finds himself leaning back on Shiro who snakes his prosthetic arm around Keith’s torso and pulls him in closer. Keith closes his eyes and enjoys the warm feel of Shiro’s body behind him as the chill of the night starts to creep in. They start moving together to the music. Keith can hear Shiro lowly saying the words along to the song and feel the soft puffs of breath on the top of his head. Keith feels good; he feels at ease.

The song ends, and cheering starts around them with people’s arms raising into the air. Shiro and Keith stay pressed together, still swaying to their own song of each other.

“You wanna go back to my RV,” Shiro murmurs into Keith’s ear.

“That’s a terrible line,” Keith turns his head to reply.

“I realized it as soon as I said it and didn’t know how to fix it.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Shiro takes Keith’s hand and guides him through the crowd, navigating between people deeply engrossed in the musician on stage. They never let go of each other’s hands as they walk through the festival grounds as it gets darker around them. There’s a passage between areas of the festival that’s lit with colored lights and disco balls turning. It’s a beautiful sight and feels like a cross between a club and space. It’s there that Shiro decides he can’t wait that much longer and pushes Keith against a sturdy tree and stares at the other man. Keith’s face is bathed in a soft purple light while Shiro is haloed by a disco ball behind him. Shiro looks breathtaking in Keith’s opinion, and then he literally takes Keith’s breath by pressing their lips together.

Keith sighs and raises his hands to both anchor in the longer parts of Shiro’s hair and tugs lightly. Shiro gasps into the kiss and presses into Keith harder, swiping his tongue along Keith’s bottom lip asking to be let in. Keith allows it, and Shiro’s grip on his hips tightens. It’s slow and hard, and Keith needs more. But he also needs it to not be against a tree in public.

“Shiro,” Keith hoarsely gets out. It’s barely a whisper as he pulls away from Shiro. The other man’s eyes slowly open, and he gazes at Keith like it’s the first time he’s ever seen him. It’s a slightly awed look that makes Keith squirm from the scrutiny.

“Yeah?” Shiro responds, voice at a low octave.

“Let’s get outta here first, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Shiro nods and takes Keith’s hand again, resuming his slight pull to navigate them out of the festival grounds and to the RV campsite.

The walk is too long for them both. They remain hand-in-hand with one of them occasionally pulling the other in for a kiss as they disappear into the crowds also trying to leave the festival. They laugh and look up at the sky as Shiro points out that even though the lights in the area are currently bright for the festival, it’s still not enough light to drown out Venus above them.

Finally, they reach the camp area and find Shiro’s shared RV. It’s a large trailer attached to the back of a pickup truck. Shiro pushes Keith against the door of the RV and kisses him once again for good measure before pulling out the key to let them inside.

Shiro flips on the light, and Keith stares around the space. It’s obviously nicer than the tent he’s been sharing with his friends, but it’s still crazy to Keith how much space there is inside the RV. It looks so much like a small house, and Keith supposes that is what it is—a house on wheels.

Keith turns back to Shiro who locks the front door and stares at it for a moment before grabbing one of the dining chairs and leaning it against the door to make sure it cannot be opened. He nods, satisfied at his work as if it was something extremely complex he just resolved.

“You’re proud of keeping your frat bros locked out?” Keith snorts.

“Nobody’s gonna interrupt us, baby,” Shiro says way too smoothly for Keith’s liking because it truly makes his insides melt. Shiro then takes advantage of Keith’s moment of softness by gliding to put an arm around Keith’s back and pull him close. Shiro’s few inches he has on Keith makes them bend their heads to look at each other with grins before they once again close the distance and kiss.

Shiro guides Keith towards the couch and pulls him onto Shiro’s lap. Before they start kissing again, the memory of the first gym selfie that Keith saw flashes through his thoughts, so he grabs the hem of Shiro’s shirt and pulls it up and off. Shiro smiles and raises his arms to help Keith accomplish his goal of not just sitting on Shiro’s lap, but sitting on a shirtless Shiro’s lap.

The shirt gets thrown somewhere to the side. Keith bites his bottom lip appreciatively at Shiro’s new shirtlessness and deeply thanks Garrison University’s 24-hour gym for its contributions to society, namely Shiro’s body. Shiro senses Keith’s thoughts and sits back, splaying his arms across the back of the couch, looking both like he’s smug but also offering himself up. Keith sees the snapback Shiro was wearing two days ago sitting behind the couch and reaches for it, placing it backward on Shiro’s head and grinning. Keith grazes a hand softly down Shiro’s chest and stops it with fingers just lightly brushing the thin line of hair that leads below his shorts waistband.

“Hmm, like what you see?” Shiro hums.

“Don’t use dumb lines while looking like a dumb frat boy,” Keith jokes in response.

“You added the hat, baby,” Shiro chuckles, bringing his left hand up to cup Keith’s face, running his thumb across Keith’s lips before leaning forward to once again capture them in a kiss. Keith rocks gently against Shiro, wanting to get the man under him riled up and feels accomplished to already feel Shiro hard. Keith shifts so when he moves against Shiro again he can feel Keith as well. The slight contact through their layers of clothes makes them both gasp, and Shiro leaves Keith’s mouth to start pressing a line of kisses down his jaw before attaching to a spot under his ear and gently sucking. Keith throws his head back in a soft moan and threads his fingers through Shiro’s long bangs sticking out from the snapback. Shiro lets his prosthetic trail underneath Keith’s shirt and pushes it up slowly until they need to break apart to take it off Keith.

Keith uses the moment to back off Shiro’s lap and settle on the ground between his legs. Shiro watches, eyes transfixed, as Keith unbuttons Shiro’s pants and pulls them down enough to free him. Keith looks up at Shiro and locks eyes with him as he takes Shiro in hand and offers one lazy and slow stroke up and down. Shiro groans Keith’s name and his eyes flutter slightly, but he doesn’t break his gaze away from the man below him. Keith smiles in satisfaction and uses Shiro’s own wetness to work his length a few more times until Shiro gives in and closes his eyes and leans his head back against the couch. Taking advantage of Shiro’s guard going down, Keith stops his hand’s movements and leans forward to barely flick his tongue against the head. The action makes Shiro’s hips buck, but Keith was expecting that and moves back.

“You gotta stay still, Shiro,” Keith chides.

Shiro cracks one eye open to look down at him and shakes his head. “I didn’t know you would be so evil.”

Keith just offers a hum in response to the other man's claim, shifting Shiro in his hand and taking as much of him into his mouth as Keith can manage, sucking hard while bracing his other hand against Shiro’s hip to keep him down.

Shiro swears loudly while Keith hums in satisfaction.

“Can I touch you?” Shiro asks quietly, his arms still stretched across the back of the couch, fingers clutching the cushions with knuckles going white. Keith looks up at Shiro, pulling back until just the head still rests in his mouth and nods before giving a hard suck and moving back down, cheeks hollowed.

Shiro moans Keith’s name as a hand comes to rest on Keith’s head, fingers threading through Keith’s hair as he continues to work Shiro deeper and deeper until Shiro finally hits the back of Keith’s throat. Shiro suddenly tugs Keith back, urging him off, and Keith does as Shiro’s trying to direct. He pulls off Shiro with a small, wet pop, looking up at the other man with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re so good,” Shiro mutters, flesh hand still gliding through Keith’s dark hair. Keith tilts his head into the movement and sighs.

“Come back up here,” Shiro requests quietly, and Keith would not deny him anything in this moment.

Keith moves his hand across Shiro’s chest while settling back on his lap, moving forward to kiss Shiro.

“What do you want?” Keith murmurs into Shiro’s neck as he starts to work on sucking a mark into the skin there.

“You,” Shiro gasps, “just you.”

Then Shiro’s arms are around Keith and he’s lifting Keith off his lap. Shiro stands up himself and they both sway momentarily before Shiro kicks off his shorts and briefs the rest of the way as well as his shoes. Only the snapback remains.  The move was done with little thought on Shiro’s end other than just removing the clothes that were only half on him, but seeing Shiro fully naked in front of him makes Keith a bit lightheaded. The harsh RV light shouldn’t make anyone look as good as it does Shiro. Keith watches as Shiro opens one of the cabinets in the kitchenette area and pulls out a box of green tea bags.

“Um, you could have said you were thirsty…” Keith falters as Shiro opens the box.

“Hmm, oh, I am,” Shiro chuckles to himself and looks Keith up and down, removing a condom from the box.

“Oh,” Keith says flatly.

“Yeah,” Shiro grins, walking back over to Keith. “Oh.”

Shiro puts his hands on Keith’s ass and pulls him forward, flush against his body, placing a soft kiss against Keith’s forehead, which feels out of place given what they’re currently hurtling forward to do. He pulls back and takes Keith’s hand, leading Keith back past the rest of the RV into the bedroom in the back. Shiro closes the door most of the way so a sliver of the living area’s light and the lights from the campground filtering through the blinds are all that illuminate the small sleeping space. There’s a full bed that Shiro turns Keith around to lay down on. Shiro walks over to a bag on the floor while Keith watches propped up on his elbows, kicking off his shoes and socks, as Shiro takes a bottle of lube from an outside pocket.

Keith leans back and lays down on the bed as Shiro walks over and crawls over to cover Keith with his body. It feels instinctual for Keith to spread his legs to let Shiro settle between them, and Shiro rests his elbows on either side of Keith’s head, effectively boxing him in. Shiro leans down to kiss Keith and then slowly starts moving down Keith’s body with small nips and kisses until he reaches where Keith is still wearing his pants. Shiro kisses right above the waistline and then starts to suck a mark there. Keith swears and gives up on his attempt to watch Shiro and just stares at the ceiling, looking at the way the light from the outside makes shapes against above him while gasping. Once Shiro seems satisfied with the bruise starting to bloom on Keith’s stomach, he pulls off Keith’s pants and kisses the inside of Keith’s thigh and begins a new mark there. Keith arches off the bed, hands going to grasp Shiro’s shoulders while letting out a moan through bitten lips.

“C’mon, please,” Keith whines at Shiro.

“What do you want?” Shiro asks lowly from his place between Keith’s thighs, mirroring Keith’s question from earlier.

“You,” Keith repeats Shiro’s answer as well. “Just you.”

Keith looks down at Shiro who is also gazing back up at him. Keith is so hard and still untouched. Shiro nods and kisses Keith’s base lightly making Keith spread his legs wider and move a hand to grasp Shiro’s bangs through the snapback tightly.

Shiro makes his way back up to Keith, giving momentary attention to the purple bruise he had left on Keith’s neck earlier, making Keith writhe under him.

“I’ve got you,” Shiro whispers, kissing Keith again, this time harder and deeper than earlier. They get lost in it as they clutch at each other's bodies and can’t stop moving against each other. Shiro pulls himself back and sits up quickly before they both lose control, chest heaving. He runs a hand down Keith from neck to hip and smiles down.

Shiro finds where he tossed the lube in the near dark of the bed to start the slow press of fingers into Keith. When two are in, Keith yells and arches as Shiro hits the right spot inside him. Shiro kisses Keith as thoroughly and deeply as he can while working in a third finger. Both of them are gasping into each other’s mouth by that point, Keith leaking onto his stomach as Shiro rubs against Keith’s thigh.

“I want you,” Keith whimpers when Shiro keeps thrusting his fingers hard in and out of Keith.

“You’ve got me, baby,” Shiro whispers right against Keith’s ear, making Keith shiver despite Shiro’s body heat on him.

Shiro removes his fingers and works on the condom and slicking himself with the lube. Once he’s ready, he starts to maneuver Keith, who gets a different idea. Keith pushes Shiro back by the chest until Shiro is sitting back and Keith crawls onto his lap. Keith smiles down at Shiro, taking the lube and working Shiro a few times more for good measure just to watch Shiro’s eyes glaze over while watching Keith’s face.

“This how you want me?” Shiro asks, moving Keith over him as Keith begins to press down onto Shiro.

“ _Yes_ ,” Keith gasps at the same time as Shiro lets out a long groan.

Once Keith is fully seated, he wraps his arms around Shiro’s neck, one hand working through Shiro’s short hair that’s not covered by the hat, keeping the grip strong to maintain their locked eyes as he starts moving up and down slowly. The pace is for Keith to adjust to the feeling of Shiro inside him but also to gradually make Shiro lose control.

Keith keeps his eyes on Shiro’s as he starts to move a little bit faster in his lap, eyes wanting to close but Keith not letting them. Shiro turns his head into Keith’s arms and starts pressing small kisses onto his bicep while Shiro places one hand on the bed for leverage so he can meet Keith’s easy thrusts.

As they speed up, Keith’s sounds grow gradually louder as well. He can’t contain himself as Shiro also starts to tell him how good Keith is making him feel and how it’s so good to be able to make Keith feel good as well. Shiro’s voice is low and washes over Keith.

On a particularly hard thrust up, Shiro nails the spot that makes Keith yell and Shiro tries to keep that pace, but Keith wants to be stubborn and make Shiro work harder for it.

“Please,” Shiro whines, “Let me give you everything.”

That statement breaks Keith, and he nods, unable to vocalize anything other than gasps and moans of Shiro’s name.

In a true demonstration of what having access to a 24-hour gym can provide, Shiro doesn’t pull out as he flips Keith over onto his back and Shiro lowers himself flush against Keith. Keith’s legs wrap around Shiro and his hands go Shiro’s shoulders. Shiro holds onto the sheets on either side of Keith’s head and lets out a deep breath. He’s still inside Keith, unmoving, as he leans down to take Keith’s mouth. Keith whines into Shiro’s mouth because he wants Shiro to move. He had wanted to take Shiro apart on his own terms, but the other man swept Keith away before he could even think otherwise.

Shiro starts thrusting into Keith, adjusting to hit the right spot inside Keith that keeps him in an almost permanent arch off the bed. Shiro moves one arm under Keith’s back to keep him pressed close. Keith stops being able to fully form Shiro’s name and only moans as Shiro keeps working into him. He can faintly hear Shiro chanting Keith’s name in between cries of _god_ and _so good_. Keith tucks his head into Shiro’s neck as Shiro moves a hand to work Keith in time with his thrusts, and Keith struggles to breathe through his cries.

When he comes, Keith presses his nails down Shiro’s back and barely registers the thought that it might hurt the other man as he lets out one more moan of Shiro’s name. Keith moves his head back from where it was buried in Shiro’s neck and looks up at Shiro, who’s still thrusting into a sensitive Keith. Keith grasps Shiro’s bangs and jerks his head so Shiro’s blown pupils are looking into Keith’s wrecked gaze.

“I want _you_ ,” Keith repeats another time while pushing Shiro deeper with his heels.

“ _Yours_ ,” Shiro groans as he thrusts twice more and comes. Keith lets his head fall back onto the bed and sighs at the feeling of Shiro inside him.

After taking some time to catch their breaths, Shiro carefully moves off Keith to lie next to him before getting off the bed. Keith makes a noise of protest, and Shiro moves back down to kiss Keith’s forehead with a soft smile.

“I’ll be right back,” Shiro says with another kiss to Keith’s head for good measure, which actually doesn’t make Keith feel better about Shiro leaving the bed so quickly. Now that he’s coming down from the rush, Keith feels a creeping fear that after this, he’ll be flung back out into the world of people who might know Shiro but never really know him. Keith fears it will be this one night, and if they ever see each other on the Garrison campus, even though they’ve managed to not for years, Shiro will act as though nothing happened.

The thoughts break when Shiro appears back in the bedroom with a glass of water and a damp towel. Shiro offers Keith the water and cleans him up as Keith takes small sips.

“Wait,” Keith suddenly remembers what he did to Shiro’s back. “Turn around.”

“Hmm, yeah, I saw in the mirror just now,” Shiro says sheepishly and kisses the corner of Keith’s mouth. “There're some scratches, not bad, kinda hot.” He laughs at Keith’s frown.

“I wanna see,” Keith says but Shiro shakes his head.

“That would require turning the light on, and I just don’t feel like doing that,” Shiro replies. He removes the glass from Keith’s hand and places it on the small side table along with the towel and pulls Keith towards him. Shiro takes off the snapback that’s still managed to stay on his head and sets it aside as well. Keith moves them so his front is against Shiro’s back under the covers, and Shiro gives a hum of contentment as Keith lays his arm across Shiro’s chest.

“Does this mean I’ll see you again?” Keith asks quietly, feeling even more exposed than just the fact he’s naked in bed with Shiro.

“Yeah, when we wake up,” Shiro replies, tiredness in his voice.

“Oh,” Keith tries to not sound disappointed at Shiro’s response.

“Wait, Keith,” Shiro dislodges himself from Keith’s hold and turns around to face him in the bed. “I mean yeah the next time we see each other is in the morning. And then I do very much plan on seeing you many, many more times after that.” Keith can make out in the light glow of the dark room that Shiro’s face is open and kind. His hair is matted with sweat in areas that were pressed down by the hat. All of it makes Shiro look so hopeful and soft.

“Oh,” Keith says again, surprised but pleased as he feels Shiro search for his hand. Shiro finds it and brings it up to his mouth to kiss the knuckles. “Good,” Keith adds, and Shiro laughs.

“Yeah,” Shiro smiles wider, “good.”

Keith moves closer to Shiro and places his head under Shiro’s as they wrap their arms around each other. It all feels a bit overwhelming when Keith thinks about it for too long. They were both orbiting around the same area at Garrison, never crossing paths, until they found each other in what has to be one of the most chaotic environments. And they fell together so easily. Like it was always meant to happen, some way or another, maybe.

“Wait, is this whole bed yours?” Keith suddenly asks, eyes snapping open from drifting.

“Fuck,” Shiro mutters, “And I left the chair wedged against the door.”

On cue, there’s banging against the door and the sound of several voices yelling “Shirogane!”

“Hey,” Shiro says burying himself in Keith’s hair, “I guess the festival is over.”

Keith laughs as Shiro continues to ignore the cries of his fraternity brothers outside and pulls Keith closer to him.

**Author's Note:**

> please, yell at me about sheith and season six on [tumblr](http://exitlude.tumblr.com/)


End file.
